Ritwik’s Trail of Fire By Towhid Shakeel

Ritwik’s Trail of Fire

In his eyes were forests of endless clouds,
and the fury of the Ganges coursing through earth’s veins.
A lament trapped in stone,
even that broke into discordant songs.
Ritwik, you were a shattered storm,
where the grief of partition stirred,
rooted deep within your restless soul.

When train smoke dispersed into thin air,
you saw the torn faces of countless processions,
and in your camera, caught the unfathomable sorrow
of unmet desires.
Each character in your tales—
they were moths scorched,
seeking the eternal light in shadowed realms.

You were an untamed wind,
unconfined by any boundary.
Your films—a mirror to fractured dreams,
reflected the maternal essence,
the eternal hunger wounds of the homeland.
And that ironic smile of yours,
where rebellion’s spark lay hidden,
a child’s ultimate accusation cloaked in melancholy.

You said, ‘I accuse’ ,
and the hands of history stained your blood,
yet your path of destruction,
a runaway star’s reckless charge,
was beyond the hold of gods.
Your vision of uniting Bengal,
echoes even now,
in the restless waves of the Bay of Bengal.

You were a dark fire,
that burned and scorched,
but birthed names for creation anew.
Yet the dream you dared,
time stole away,
your soul’s protest etched vividly
in the surreal frames of ‘Reason, Debate, and Story’ .

Today’s crowd still knows not that path,
they choose the easy song’s tale,
wavering, lost in the quest
to fathom your intricate truth.
That roar, that tune of yours—
still resounds in the wind,
we pause, stunned,
struggling to understand.

Ritwik, you remain an eternal flame,
rooted in earth yet soaring high,
your name accuses us with its truth,
like your films—
an immortal artist’s sorrow.

Copyright@Towhid Shakeel